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I have an intro that was hiding in my Gunjin folder Held over from the 10th Battlefield tournament.
The rules are simple, whoever accepts this battle must use a character with an 1860's Western 'Flavor' and must be human. Other than that, rules be damned.

OOC: I accept your challenge darkness. and yes, he is human.

a tall man clad in deep brown with a poncho draped over his shoulders approached the dark church. the man wore a wide brimmed hat that covered his eyes as he looked down at the sand. he wore brown leather boots that were outfitted with shiny silver spurs. he had short raven hair and a rough stubble of a beard. his eyes were a steely blue that looked like the eyes of a cruel angle and the only skin visible on this man was his face, tan from the harsh sun.
The man looked up at the masked priest and smirked as he took a cigarette from his pocket and his gun from it's holster at his side. the custom sidearm glowed red before emitting a small flame from the barrel and lighting the cigarette. the flame vanished and the gun was holstered.

Flint: no, no I haven't come to help sing a dirge. the name's Flint, I've come to run you outta here for takin' innocent lives. see, you've been responsible for the deaths of innocent people, men, women, even children who haven't done a damn thing wrong. with my twins Caster and Magai, and of course 'The Hand of Ra' we're going to make sure you don't hurt anyone again.

Flint swung his right arm and revealed at his side were two custom 8 shot hand guns, one silver, the other black. strapped to his back was a double barrel golden shotgun. and he had plenty of ammo strapped across his chest and waist for this battle. He readied his hands to draw his sidearms and stared at the masked man.

Flint: so, who makes the first move?

.

Flint, struggleing to breath quickly pulled the silver gun, caster, from its holster and pulled the trigger. with a lout resonating bang, a stream of ice flew from the gun as the enchanted bullet pierced the gut of the preacher, freezing whatever it ripped through as it exited the preacher's back and flew through the air and hit the cealing freezing a pach of the ceiling on impact. the preacher released his grip of flint and staggered back a bit, holding the frozen bullet wound.
Without wasting a moment, Flint then pulled the golden shotgun from his back and aimed it at the zombies to his left and pulled the trigger, two beams of highly concentrated sunlight shot from the barrel and tore through the zombies like a knife through paper. Flint quickly reloaded the shotgun with two shells and snapped the barrel up before leaping into the air and blasting the rest of the zombies into oblivion.
Flint put the shotgun on his back again and smirked at the masked priest as he drew his black sidearm, Magai, and pulled the trigger. a bullet shot from the barrel as a bolt of lightning and struck the priest in the same place as the first bullet, sending electricity coursing through his body.

Flint: and I've still got five shots in each of these guns. your move preacher.

Flint stood still with both of his enchanted guns trained on the preacher ready to pull the trigger at a moment's notice.

This is unacceptable quality from either of us, even for a non-judged match.

I propose a restart, Mainly so I can better define exactly what is happening or we can continue from where we are by modifying the character's powerset and borrowing another page from 'Priest', but you won't like it.

Do you accept the reset offer?

sure, that would probably be best if we restart this thing because this is a bit confusing and I probably should have clarified the powers of the enchanted guns better (which I'll do right now for clarification's sake.)

the two guns magai and caster have 6 chambers each. engraved on those chambers is an enchantment which has a certain magical attribute (fire, ice, thunder, wind, earth, and light/dark) the light and dark attribute depends on the gun (caster has light magai has dark). the shotgun, the hand of Ra, fires two simultanious beams of highly concentrated sunlight from it's twin barrels when the enchantment is active, otherwise it's a normal shotgun that just happens to be gold. now of course all of these require ammo to fire of their magical energy, otherwise the weapons are useless.

OOC: What say we try this again and give them a better show this time.

In 1863 a discovery was made in the newly settled parts of the American Southwest Arizona Territory that would shake the very foundations of the church had any of the announcement ever made it to the outside world.

Agents from Rome hastily struck to remove the Natives and Settlers alike in a heavy handed effort to protect these secrets. When these weathered inhabitants refused to leave peacefully, the papacy sanctioned a crusade and 10,000 of the Vatican’s good soldiers were sent in to clear out the area, saying that the area is one of divine importance and a New Holy Land. Due to the power and wealth wielded by the church, and the weakened condition of the United Stated following the Civil War, the sovereign governments were powerless to intercede.
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A blood red sun hangs over a tiny church, the only feature in miles upon miles of unchanging desert landscape. The twilight hour is uncharacteristically quiet for a muggy summer evening and even the laments of the dozens of crucified heathens encircling the sanctuary have faded into nothing more than dull whimpers.

A deep and brooding song drifts from within the chapel, a haunting elegy to damned souls. The doors open, pushed by some unseen hand and the sickly sweet scent of decay reaches out. The congregation is nothing but dried and withered husks propped up in the pews and the walls are thick with intricate diagrams scrawled in blood, flesh, and silver. The preacher’s once white cassock is covered in grisly brown stains and an unadorned brass mask hides his face.
As the man at senses the approach of one not of his flock, the music stops, leaving the desert back to its silence. he holds his thin arms wide over the stained tabernacle and transmits his thoughts directly into the guest's mindWelcome Pilgrim, have you come to help sing the dirge?

a tall man clad in deep brown with a poncho draped over his shoulders approached the dark church. the man wore a wide brimmed hat that covered his eyes as he looked down at the sand. he wore brown leather boots that were outfitted with shiny silver spurs. he had short raven hair and a rough stubble of a beard. his eyes were a steely blue that looked like the eyes of a cruel angle and the only skin visible on this man was his face, tan from the harsh sun.
The man looked up at the masked priest and smirked as he took a cigarette and a match from his pocket. The man struck the match on his beard stubble and lit the cigarret as he put it to his lips. he shook the lit match and tossed it to the ground. before looking at the masked priest.

Flint: no, but there is something I'd like to know. see, my girlfriend Lita disappeared from a small town not far from here and I'd like to know if you'd have anything to do with that.

Flint swung his right arm and revealed at his side were two custom 6 shot hand guns, one silver, the other black. strapped to his back was a double barrel golden shotgun. and he had plenty of ammo strapped across his chest and waist for this battle. He readied his hands to draw his sidearms as he stared at the masked man.

Flint: so, is she here or not?

bump.

OoC: No need to bump this topic if it starts to fall, just remind me in a PM if you are feeling too worried about it.
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The tyrant's daughter is not one of my flock The priest motioned to the dried corpses that filled his pews.

The girl boldly sought my chapel for truth yet I had none to share. A being as pure and innocent has nothing to find among the ranks of the damned.

A relieved look crossed the gunman's face, yet his respite was but for the briefest of moments as the resounding mental voice continued You however have been soaked in the smell of corruption. The voice turned into something more akin to an angry hiss The blood on your hands can no longer be washed away.

"I don't like where this is going, holy man." growled Flint as he drew his pistols. The main doors slammed behind him and a heavy wooden brace fell into place, locking Flint away from the world he knew and into this nightmare.

As he wheeled around in surprise, wretched hands that were far too strong to be human clamped onto the gunman's face and left arm while the decaying teeth of a corpse previously hidden behind the door bit deep into his shoulder.

At least a dozen members of the 'congregation' rose to fill their hollow forms with living flesh.

Flint yelled in pain as the teeth sank into his shoulder but he quickly rose caster up and put the barrel of the silver sidearm under the lower jaw of the thing biting into him and pulled the trigger. A great blaze of fire shot from the barrel and engulfed the head of the damned, incinerating it's head almost instantly. Flint quickly yanked his arm free of the thing's grip and pointed the black sidearm Magi at another of the walking husks and pulled the trigger, causing a massive ball of flames to engulf the dried husk of a being, almost instantly reducing it to ash. As another Zombified minion grabbed for flint he quickly dodged the hand of the living husk and fired caster at the zombie, freezing it in it's tracks with an arctic flurry of ice from the barrel of the gun. Flint then kicked the frozen corpse and shattered it with his boot on contact.

Flint: it'll take more than that to stop me stranger.

as another zombie latched onto Flint's right arm Flint twirled the enchanted black sidearm and fired it at the attacking zombie's head. the ice bullet quickly pierced through the brain of the zombie and exploded as it exited the back of the zombie's skull. the resulting explosion froze the zombie's head completely, causing the zombie to fall back as it let go of Flint. Upon hitting the floor the zombie's head shattered into millions of pieces causing a bloody mess. Flint turned his attention back to the masked pastor.

Flint: is that all you've got? walking corpses?!

The best laid plans...

You are intriguing, soldier. I would not expect a human such as you to have such a nonchalant attitude at the sights of God's chosen.

The priest held out his left hand and immediately the horde retreated to their pews.

I am curious about your perceptions, perhaps you do not understand the gravity of your situation? Is there something wrong with your head?

The gunman leveled his pistol Magai at the preacher and stated, "If yer trying ta make it personal stranger, you done - done it."

I think I'll take away the responsibility of thinking for you, a gift... is the--

The priest never finished his sentence before an icy bullet tore into his rotator cuff, the force of the .44 slug slamming his frail looking body into the inverted crucifix at the far end of the sanctuary.

"I ain't in the mood to hear it, once I'm done with you and yer flock, I'll be on my way ta find Lita."

The masked creature explored the sizable hole with the long fingers of its
opposite hand, satisfied at what he found, the priest dropped to the floor like a discarded doll. The golden mask rolled away a very surprised looking young man. His cries of surprise and anguish only lasted for a few moments before shock set in and the youthful priest's eyes rolled back in his head.

The charade wasn't as amusing as I had hoped for it to be. I still want to know what leaves you so callus to the situation at hand, but first Find me.

The gunman's eyes darted left and right, followed closely by the steady aim of his irons. The all encompassing psychic voice left him without a single clue as to the true location of his enemy.

Exactly as the puppeteer had planned. Two thin golden wires, all but invisible in the dying light, pierced Flint's arms at the wrists and continued into the wooden floor.

The gunman managed to look up and stammer, "Yo-you're above!" With seemingly no effort at all, there was a pale blond man man dressed in a well tailored two piece suit standing on the ceiling.

Before Flint could get a good look at his assailants face, he concealed it with his left palm and spoke in his natural voice,

"Precisely"

With that he flipped from his inverted perch to plant his heel in the gunman's wounded shoulder.

Stolen Computer Style BUMP.